Destiny Forgiven (Shadows of Destiny) (9 page)

BOOK: Destiny Forgiven (Shadows of Destiny)
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Chaos and bodies. It was all he could take in at first. Guards shouting and grabbing at something. Grunts and the sounds of fists hitting flesh. He marched down the hallway where the scene unfolded in the narrow space.

Brown feathers flashed over the guard’s heads for a moment then disappeared again. A bird’s wing? A feminine scream echoed in the hall and he ran toward it. His heart pounded as he shoved men aside.

Grant – one of his best guards – had the left side of Felicity’s body pinned to the stone wall while two men wrestled to get the rest of her controlled. Now he understood their struggle. The other half of her body was shifting between some kind of large cat to some kind of large bird. Every time they’d get a firm grip on her, she’d shift and they’d lose it. Two guards already had big scratch marks shredded through their uniforms and one’s face was bloodied.

“Get another arm band,” he barked at one of the guards he’d pushed out of the way. “Now!”

With a nod, he ran off. Grant punched Felicity in the face and she screamed again. Blood trailed down her mouth and dripped onto the floor.

The world stopped. Sounds fell away. His focus landed on Grant and all he could see was himself beating him to a bloody pulp.

He fisted his hands at his sides before he acted on the impulse. He’d never felt so out of control, so violent.

“Let her go,” he managed to grit out between his teeth.

Grant gave him a confused look. “What, sir?”

“Maddox.” His father’s sharp voice from down the hall bit into the haze of rage. “Stand down.”

He glared at Grant as he panted desperate breaths. Anger clawed at his chest. His muscles felt so tense they ached. He needed to hurt something.

“Maddox.” Saith’s voice was closer now, more commanding.

He gave his head a shake. The fog started to lift. He inhaled a deep breath.

A guard ran by. “I have the arm band!”

They wrestled Felicity to the ground. Grant kicked his boot into her ribs and she screamed.

“Maddi!”

Images flickered through his mind. Thunder in the distance. Lightning flashes the only light in a dark place. Horror. A man throwing his head back and screaming. Pain. Blood and sweat. Fear that there’d be no end to it.

He squeezed his eyes shut but it only made it worse.

A hand landed on his shoulder and the images disappeared.

“Maddox.” A familiar voice. “They have this under control.”

Yes. Of course they did. They were soldiers of the light. Ordained by the gods. He breathed in deeply through his nose then opened his eyes.

A body, small and vulnerable, lay unconscious on the ground. His first instinct was to turn away but he stopped himself.

Look at it. Look at it and feel nothing.

Dark hair fanned over the dirty ground. Full lips stained with blood. Lips he’d kissed. Lips that tasted sweet like honey.

Feel nothing.

Her left arm was human now and they snapped the band on the upper part. That would keep her from shifting again.

His father tugged on his shoulder. “Come on. Grant will handle her.”

It took all of his power to walk away, leaving her in the hands of Grant – a sadistic guard that Maddox had trained. Now he regretted training him so well. Each step down the hallway, away from the helpless girl, felt like walking through quicksand.

Saith ushered him into Maddox’s office then shut the door behind them. Numbness finally took hold of him and he released a relieved breath.

“Everything okay, son?” his father asked.

When he called him son, it was usually for a more personal conversation. Like a hint that he cared for him. It didn’t fill his hollowness though.

“Yes, sir. Everything is fine.” It was hard to tell if his father believed the lie. Maddox wouldn’t have. Would he ask why she’d called him Maddi? Should he tell his father that she thought she knew him? Or that he was beginning to believe her?

“Your mother would be proud of you,” he said. “You’ve done a great deal for our cause. We’re so close to accomplishing everything we’ve worked so hard for. And there’ll be a big reward for you at the end of all this.”

At the end? As if this war would ever end. No. There’d always be
Marwolaeth Du.
There would always be pain and suffering. It was their way. In that, they were no better than humans. No, they were far worse.

Normally, he’d have eaten up any talk about his mother, but this time it felt fake – a false promise and a false hope to keep Maddox from snapping. Maybe he needed it.

He felt awkward standing in the middle of his office, facing his father, trying to hold back signs of the clusterfuck he’d ended up in. Couldn’t he fucking leave him alone for once?

“Honor your mother’s mission, Maddox,” he finally said.

He nodded.

His eyes hardened and he stepped in close. “Break this girl,” he whispered eerily. “There’s more to her than we think. She’s the only prisoner I’d ever seen that could shift with the band on. Take every last secret from her. I don’t care how, just do it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” he choked out.

Saith gave him a pat on the shoulder then left the office. He stood in the same spot, feeling lost and wondering if he should just get wasted at the local pub and pass out.

Her high-pitched scream still echoed in his ears.
“Maddi!”
Desperate and full of trust. Like she truly believed he was this beloved Maddi and would save her.

“Maddi!”

It replayed over and over in his brain. He bashed his fist into the desk again.

He could check on her if he wanted to. He was head of
Marwolaeth Du
– he could do anything he wanted. But what purpose would that serve? It would only hurt him more and distract from his purpose.

What was Grant doing to her now? He liked the whip. For some reason Maddox couldn’t bear the thought of him taking the awful thing to her pretty skin.

He paced. Rubbed his head. Slammed his bloody fist into the desk again. He needed to see her. Needed it like he needed oxygen. It was a primal urge he’d never felt before.

Protect.

His gut twisted. She was hurting, there, in his home, and he couldn’t stop it. Why couldn’t he get her out of his mind?

“Fuck!”

He rolled his shoulders then paced again. When he passed by the mirror, he froze. An idea came to mind. Hurriedly, he opened the top drawer to the filing cabinet in the corner. He shuffled through the folders, looking for one name.

“Dalton,” he mumbled. “Dalton, Dalton.”

Where the fuck was the file on Dalton? They had at least something on almost every shifter rebellion leader they knew of. He’d heard of Dalton before. It was the shifter they’d almost caught that night.

“Where the fuck are you, Dalton?” When he couldn’t find it in the top drawer, he slammed it shut then searched through the second. Each passing minute drove his heartbeat faster.

He found it in the third drawer. Placing the file on the desk, he leaned over it. This was his ticket. This would ease whatever the hell was going on inside him that demanded he comfort her.

He opened the file and stared at the photograph of this shifter – this man that Felicity knew and possibly loved. New feelings rose to the surface. Envy. Why should this green-eyed pretty boy possess such a prize?

It didn’t matter. He’d use him to get what he needed and that calmed him. Photo in hand, he walked to the mirror and began the glamour process. In direct light, he’d never pass as someone so familiar to her. But in the darkness of her cell, just a few of his features was enough.

Dalton would be her light in a hopeless time, but Maddox would be the one to live it.

 

 

My heart is breaking for you. Stay strong. Don’t forget who you are. Don’t let them take you from me.

Felicity to Maddox in a letter, November 2003
 

 

A bug slowly made its way across the ceiling. Felicity had been tracking it for the last few… How long had it been? Hours? Days? The little beetle went back and forth across one spot for a while, reminding her of Maddox when he paced.

Maddox. The one who didn’t save her when she’d yelled for him. Had she really expected him to?

She sighed then winced at the stabbing pain in her ribs. She’d cry if she could, but there were no tears left. All she could do was lie on her cot and watch that beetle pace the moldy ceiling.

It was still hard to believe she’d been able to shift half of her body. But when that sadistic officer, Grant, had come to her cell and explained that he was taking over interrogation for Inkman that day, she’d lost it. Fear and anger surged through her and when he dragged her out of the cell, she started to shift. She’d gotten a few good swipes at a couple of them. Sick
, but that thought warmed her chest a bit. But even then she’d known it wouldn’t last. They would beat her to death before they ever let her get away.

Hope began to dwindle. And that she hadn’t seen Maddox since then worried her. There was a moment during the chaos where their gazes met and she saw something shift inside him. She’d seen him angry, tormented, confused… But this was rage. And it wasn’t directed at her. He looked half a second away from murdering Grant. Was it enough to put her hope
on? She didn’t have a choice. Hope was all she had left.

The cell door clicked open and someone stepped inside. A whimper escaped her. Please, no more, she wanted to say. She couldn’t take it so soon after the last time. Her body ached so much.

A figure moved in the darkness. Trying to scramble away wouldn’t do anything but hurt so she lay there, watching, waiting for her fate. As the man drew nearer, she could make out some details. A t-shirt with holes. Not a guard? Black spiky hair, bright green eyes, high cheekbones.

He stopped next to her cot and whispered, “Felicity. It’s me, Dalton.”

Dalton! She tried to jump up and let out of a yelp of pain. Tears streamed from her eyes – not from the pain but for joy.

He bent over and put a hand on her shoulder. “Lie still. You’re hurt.”

“Dalton,” she croaked. Emotion from the last few days spilled over and she sobbed.

Lifting her upper body, he sat precariously on the edge of the cot and settled her into his lap. Though he smelled unfamiliar – like the musky prison – she nuzzled her face against his denim-clad leg.

“Are you okay?” she said desperately through hiccups and sobs. “I’m so sorry! I’m sorry I got you into this. Are you hurt? Did they –”

“Shh.” He stroked his hand softly over her forehead.

She wasn’t alone. Despite her sadness and guilt that he was trapped here too, and probably enduring worse than her, the comfort was welcome. He wiped her tears away with his fingers.

“Why did they let you in here?” She tried to sit up. “Did you escape?”

Gently, he pushed her back down again. “No, sweet girl. They want me to convince you to talk.”

Sweet girl? That was strange. He’d never called her that. Too tired and happy to think much about it, she focused on his hand softly stroking over her hair.

BOOK: Destiny Forgiven (Shadows of Destiny)
12.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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